By Patrick Macias

The voice of the gaki

Back to yawning face red skin disease because it pleases the gods. He is rudder and harsh, hair tonic and cough drops. She is skull with skin pulled gently over it, false eyelashes and watery mascara caught in the rain stretched out over fields of black down winter coats now past their welcome, cocooned in cold grey city, never understanding modulation because someone needs to make you humid humid humid in here. I am tired hip socket joint laying down legs in fetal position left. Everything was done and tried before a million times because maybe it pleased the gods before tonight.

Comments

But the gods, the kami, ancient as they are, won't see you as something other than a transient thing, brought here from the outside, treading water with some of the tribe in the shadow of Godzilla, making the most of it, while it lasts... She with the skull-pulled skin surely knows all of this, but she won't tell you, necessarily, until the time is right, or reality is revealed unsympathetically...